


Promises Must Be Kept

by Sandalaris



Series: the white rabbit's pocketwatch [3]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crazy Belle (Once Upon a Time), F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-16
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-10-19 20:13:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10647240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sandalaris/pseuds/Sandalaris
Summary: He's forgotten his name. But then so has she. Doesn't matter, a deals a deal.AU where Belle escaped the hospital days before Emma showed up.





	Promises Must Be Kept

Following him feels natural. Easy as breathing, to let him lead her down the stone sidewalk back towards town, watching the familiar lines of his back twist in an unfamiliar gait. 

He stops outside a shop, all dark and with signs she wants to read. Wants to see. The words swim and flicker in front of her, letters turning over and rearranging until she has to look away or be sick once more. 

She's hot again, too hot and damp while the shivers shake her. 

"Looks like you're in withdrawal," he says mildly, "run out of... _medicine_ , have we?" 

"No," she says, word quick and eyes widening as she takes a step back. "Won't take them. Don't need them. I'll get better." 

He tilts his head to the side, studying her as he unlocks the door. 

"Pity," he says softly before his gaze grows calculating. It's comforting, familiar and she wants to laugh in delight. That won't do though, so she swallows it back, feels it settle like a rock in her stomach. 

"Looks like the hospital is missing you," he says with a carefulness that puts her on edge. It's meant to, she thinks, otherwise he wouldn't be watching her like a predator as he leads her inside. _'Come,' says the spider to the fly._ She shakes her head, but the words echo in the hallow spaces inside. 

"No?" he asks. 

The panic is late, the term not registering until something connects them to her cell with a snap and it's not right but it is, and she mustn't go back. 

"Tell me, dearie, what's your name?" 

"Don't have one," she answers and it's the truth. Shouldn't be, but is. "What do they call you?" she asks remembering her manners.

"Gold," he'd replies, and she had sees scaled skin and bulging eyes. Imagines a flourishing hand, a high falsetto. A brief giggle breaks free to spill out all over the floor of his shop. 

"Spun elegantly, I'm sure," she mutters her gaze leaving his, taking in the shop and the trinkets within. Wondering around the room and touching the various knick-knacks. Leaving her prints behind, bits of herself that will linger. Visible if one knows how to look. 

"This way." 

He sets her in the back room, gives her toast and tea. Real plates, real cups. There's a daybed, blankets all musty and messy and worn. Real. Real and wonderful and she sits on them because they need to stay. 

"Don't throw up on the carpet," he snips, eyes glaring before he sets a wastebasket nearby. 

"I'm getting better," she says as she nibbles delicately at the toast. Ankles crossed like a proper lady. 

Mr. Gold make s a noise of disagreement, but doesn't comment. He turns, heads for the curtain and she panics, for just a moment. 

"You're leaving?" 

He pauses, giving her an annoyed look. She watches him, sees the almosts in the lines of his face. Almost, but not. Almost right, almost there, almost almost almost. But never really. Empty shell of a man who didn't used to be. 

"I have a business to run. Make no mistake, dearie," he warns with a sharp grin, "I can still hear just fine from up front. If so much as one item is moved," he gestures with his cane at back room she's in, "I'll know." 

It's comforting. It shouldn't be, she thinks, but it is. This almost man whose not leaving. She'll be brave until he comes back to her. She can do that much. 

\- 

Manic giggles dance through her head, a voice calling out in a high falsetto words she thought she ought to know before the mist came and snatched them up, greedily swallowing them down to leave her spinning in search. Spun and spun until All That Was was lost. But lost things were just misplaced. Waiting until someone found them. The forgotten never stay forgotten for long. 

"Do we have a deal?" She said, turning to look at the man bent over the heavy tomb. He came back with food, more toast and weak tea. Set it all before her and then took the chair behind his desk. 

"We haven't set the terms of one yet," he said in bemusement. "But if you tell me what you want I'm certain we can come to some sort of arrangement." 

She frowns, because he didn't answer her question. Or maybe he did. Wouldn't he have said? Never forgets a deal, her master. 

"Sorry," she mutters, looking away. "Wrong person." He never forgets, only pretends. 

The day is done, must be because she's tired and darkness is seeping through the place. Creeping up from corners and dusting itself along the walls. 

"It's not a bad idea," he continues after a moment. "A form of payment if you will, for my generous hospitality." 

_Always comes with a price._

"Housekeeping," she replies with a nod. She knows this dance. 

"Charming, but no," he replies. She frowns, but stays silent. "I don't have need of you there. Let's just say," his lips curl up in a smile that's more unpleasant than it should be, calculations turning in his eyes. "You'll owe me a favor. I can always make use of those who can pass without notice." 

It's not a fair trade, she knows. Too much power is in his hands. But she has her role to play, even if he's muddling the lines. 

"Yes," she says, feeling the rest of the words gather behind her teeth. _I will go with you._

She takes a bite of toast, second one she's been able to keep down, fourth she's eaten, uses it to swallow back the words that want to come and he takes up his cane to leave, a jerk of his head to follow and warning words. He sets her her behind the shop, reminding her there's more food and even clothes if she stays there. Good little girl. Doesn't fight, does what she's told.

He's off to collect what's owed him from others. He'll be back. He has to be because they have a deal. Because he said. 

_Forever._

**Author's Note:**

> In case anyone thinks otherwise, Belle doesn't remember the Enchanted forest really, but since the curse didn't give her any memories to replace them, her real memories have more room to try and surface. The curse tries to keep them hidden, her mind tries to remember, and poor Belle is caught between.


End file.
